Ariadne sat at the table, the envelope in her hand, the flap flicking up then down in a nervous jig.
"Ari, you're going to have to reply. The King probably already knows you've received the invite," her mother sighed.
"I know... I'm just not ready yet," Ariadne closed the flap and tucked it under her arm as she picked up a steaming cup of tea.
Ariadne curled up on the worn couch, her hands wrapping firmly around the faded purple enamel mug, the one with a wide handle and small white butterflies stamped all over it. She sipped from the lip of it and settled into the thick, brown cushions.
Her mother walked in and sat down next to her, she turned to Ariadne.
"Would you even go?"Ariadne thought about it, quicker than a grain of sand hitting the bottom of an hour glass, she replied.
"Yes. If it was something I had to do.""You have a better sense of duty, more than your father ever did," her mother brushed a stray tendril of hair away from her face.
"When did he leave us," Ariadne questioned her mother.
Her mother stared straight ahead, before she looked at Ariadne. One day, she would be a great queen, strong and defiant, with a good heart. She didn't have the heart to tell her it already belonged to someone else.
"When you were eight, he went out to get food one night and never came back, Ari... He loved us. No matter if you think otherwise. I have to trust he'll find his way back to us."
"You can't know that for sure though, even if you want to," Ariadne stated plainly.
She hated seeing the look of pain that always crossed her mother's face when she contradicted her. It wasn't necessary, but if she didn't remind her mother, she would loose her. Loose her to the sickness of a dying Fae.
A Fae without their partner wasted away. Her mother had once told her it was something in their genetics. When a Fae finds their love, the one their heart sings to, there is no going back, it creates a bond strong enough it actually causes a chemical reaction in their blood. When that chemical reaction begins to fade through lack of physical contact or the other half crosses the veil into Altoria the chemicals die, causing it to poison the blood stream. The only way to stop it was to hate the other half of your heart with every last fibre of your being, heart and soul.
So what Ariadne said wasn't cruel, she was literally saving her life.
"I think I remember that night, but only vaguely," Ariadne sighed.
************
Ariadne sat at the table, her eyes flickered to her mother, pacing the tiled floors. If she wasn't careful, her footprints would leave tread marks. It was harder to cleanse the tiles and reshape them with magic after the tiles had been destroyed so thoroughly.
YOU ARE READING
Dance of the Damned (Completed)
FantasyAriadne has always been a dreamer. Her mother would always say she was away with the faeries. Until one night, an envelope shrouded with magic lands at her doorstep, inviting her to the dance of the damned in the enchanting land of Altoria. It's m...